“The trouble is that there is nothing in Tony except good nature,” said Hester.
Nettie appeared reflective, and once more expressed herself in the same fashion. “I don’t quite know. Still, I hope you are right,” she said. “You see, I’m quite fond of Violet Wayne.”
[XIX — POSITIVE PROOF]
HESTER EARLE’S entertainment promised to prove as successful as the other had been, for a clear moon hung low above the hillside when Tony drove Violet Wayne and her mother to Low Wood down the Northrop valley. The night was pleasantly warm, and the murmur of the river which slid in and out of the mist wisps in the hollow beneath the white road rose faintly musical out of the silence. Beyond the long hedgerows the stubble lay steeped in silvery light save where the long shadows lay black as ebony in the wake of the gleaming sheaves. A smell of honeysuckle drifted out from the blackness of a coppice they flitted through, and Tony turned with a little laugh to the girl beside him, while the clip-clop of the hoofs rang amidst the trees.
“I wonder if you and I are thinking of the same thing,” he said. “It happened just about this hour a year ago, and it was such another night.”
His voice had a faint thrill in it, and Violet laughed softly as she glanced at her left hand.
“You were horribly nervous that evening, Tony,” she said. “I don’t think I ever mentioned it, but when you put the ring on it scarred my finger. That might have had a significance with superstitious people.”
Tony glanced over his shoulder, and saw that Mrs. Wayne, who sat behind them, was apparently interested in something her companion was saying.
“I think that was quite natural,” he said lightly. “You see, the situation was disconcertingly novel to me.”
“So you told me!” said the girl with a little laugh. “If I remember, you laid some stress upon the fact. It was also a proof of my credulity that I believed you.”